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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016822">Past Lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maurawrites/pseuds/maurawrites'>maurawrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, I don't know how to tag send help, M/M, That's it that's literally it - Freeform, and to people who made buck feel lonely n sad, bc never did he think he'd be the type to want his boyfriend to wear a cowboy hat in the bedroom, eddie is on the same boat, established Buddie, he hates and loves it at the same time, i hate him and myself because of that photo, inspired by oliver's horrible teasing of us by posting that photo of yeehaw!buck, it's just buck and eddie for 1500 words and no one else, reference to shitty parents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:21:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maurawrites/pseuds/maurawrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the teaser photos that Oliver posted for Buck Begins</p>
<p>There was a reason that Buck rarely spoke about his time before the 118; it was filled with memories that might have seemed great and wild and adventurous, but when looking back all Buck could remember was just how lonely he was.  And with every relic of the time spent between leaving the house of his family and finding his home in the family of the 118, Buck couldn’t help but remember the stories that lay beneath the surface of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>9-1-1 Tales</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Past Lives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So I see now why your loft is so sparse.” Eddie let out a long whistle as he looked at the storage container filled with, well, to be honest, what looked like </span>
  <em>
    <span>crap</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “It’s ‘cause everything is </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Buck looked at his boyfriend with a raised brow and only the smallest of smiles quirking on his lips. “To be fair at least half of this shit is my parents that they obviously didn’t want to go through the trouble of getting rid of themselves or something.” he sighed as his fingers danced over a few items, picking them up before putting them down, confirming his suspicions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had received the call from his parents only a week or so prior, their annoyance at even having to make the call clear within the first few seconds. They were sick of his stuff cluttering up their unit and demanded that he come clear it out. When his response consisted of telling them he couldn’t just drop everything to fly out to do so, that he had a job, he could practically hear the eye-roll through the phone. He was fairly surprised when he got a notice from the chain storage unit company that it was being transferred to Los Angeles. He figured they were just going to trash his stuff.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But thanks for helping me out with it anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What better way to spend an afternoon off, right?” Eddie chuckled, and that small feeling of asking too much began to make itself at home in Buck’s chest. “Plus, maybe I’ll finally get to hear more about your time pre-118 other than ‘bartended down in South America for a bit’.” he teased, hitting Buck with a raised brow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s why you came? I should have known your ulterior motive was just to snoop.” Buck answered with a laugh of his own, before placing a hand on the small of Eddie’s back and leaning in for a small kiss of gratitude. “Still, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thanks</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This is gonna suck a whole lot less now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Eddie responded simply before clapping his hands together. “But if we want to make it back home in time for pizza and movies with Chris, we better get started.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a reason that Buck rarely spoke about his time before the 118; it was filled with memories that might have seemed great and wild and adventurous, but when looking back all Buck could remember was just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was. And with every relic of the time spent between leaving the house of his family and finding his home in the family of the 118, Buck couldn’t help but remember the stories that lay beneath the surface of them.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The broken D-Link from a climb in Yellowstone that nearly cost him his life but had earned him an appreciative look and night with a fellow climber, only to be alone in the tent upon waking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An untouched tin of board wax from his time down in South America bartending at a bar frequented by surf boarders; bought in excitement as one of his found friends had promised to finally teach Buck to surf, only to find that the man and his backpacking friends ended up leaving the night before, forgetting to let him know.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Matchbooks from bars in all the places he had traveled, some with numbers, some without, but all reminders of nights spent searching out brief moments of connection.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If Buck had to have cleaned the unit out earlier, even by a few months, he was sure it would have been far more painful, all reminders of the fact that no one seemed to stay, that people found it easier to walk out of his life rather than stay in it. But every time he felt that familiar pang, he’d look over to Eddie. He’d watch as the motes of dust caught the sun streaming in behind him, creating a golden aura around the man that had walked in and hadn’t left yet, despite all the ugly that Buck had shown him.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d look at him and be reminded that all the lonely nights, the adventures he didn’t get to share with anyone but himself weren’t in vain. They were all leading here, to him, to the 118, to Chris, to him reconnecting with Maddie. Maybe everything happened for a reason after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But as he looked up at him, he realized his boyfriend was concentrating on something awfully hard. Buck’s eyes darted to what he held in his hands, before realizing that Eddie had found the small box of pictures that he had once treasured. It was filled with snapshots of his travels, of moments that he hadn’t quite figured out that he was lonely, not just alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie’s unreadable expression made Buck nervous, and he quickly tried to run through the dusty inventory of what pictures were in the box in his mind. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> there were any that’d warrant any real response from his boyfriend, but obviously he was wrong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And what’s caught your eye?” he called out from his spot between some ridiculously ugly and old furniture pieces of his parents. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took a moment for Eddie to respond, his head snapping up eventually, almost as if he had been in some sort of trance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You gotta tell me, was this like….a joke or?” Eddie asked, waving a photo in the air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Buck couldn’t exactly tell which one it was from his spot, so he put down his own task to make his way over. As he closed in on his Eddie’s spot he finally caught a glimpse of which photo had his boyfriend’s feathers ruffled and he couldn’t help but laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A large smile overtook his face as he reached for the photo and plucked it out of Eddie’s hands. “Jesus, I forgot about this one.” His thumb swiped over his own face as he stared down at the picture. There he was, sat on his old jeep, clad in an outfit that almost seemed a cliche of the job he had been working at the time, with the rugged wilderness of the Tetons (if he remembered correctly) in the background.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was sure he still had the cowboy hat somewhere, although he was fairly sure that the rest of the outfit had been either lost in one of his many moves or had probably gotten destroyed on the job. Being a ranch hand was a dirty job, that was for sure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So…?” Eddie prodded, looking for an answer to his question, and more of an explanation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not a joke.” Buck responded with a shrug of his shoulders “Somehow got roped into being a ranch hand on this massive ranch in Wyoming; hat, boots, lasso and all.” he laughed. As he did, he realized that out of all the mementos he had gone through that afternoon, of all the ones that he had instructed Eddie to toss in the ‘trash’ pile, this one of the few that filled him with warmth. “You’re lucky it was only a seasonal position, I loved that job. Who knows, if it was permanent I may have never found the 118.” His words were said in jest, but they rang with truth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was one of the first times that made Buck realize that being alone didn’t have to be lonely, that sometimes his own company was enough. He had made friends with fellow ranch hands, had a few flings, but hadn’t tried to use them to fill that hollow space he had been running from all his life. He filled it with hard and honest work, beautiful vistas, nights in front of the campfire, mornings spent with the livestock, and lunches spent bantering across the table with other workers.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So what, you were gonna make me have to find you in Wyoming?” Eddie teased, referring back to their old joke and romantic notion that they had been meant to find each other, and that even if it hadn’t been through the 118, they would have found each other somehow, somewhere. Eddie’s large hands made themselves at home on Buck’s hips, before sliding around to the small of his back and interlacing in the spot they rested.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Buck’s hands still held the photo between them, smiling fondly down at his younger self. He wished he could tell him that while the ranch was great, he’d soon find something even better. That he’d soon be apart of two families: the one he found in the 118 and the one he made with Eddie and Christopher. That his endless wandering, the trying to figure out what to do with his life would soon be over. But maybe the surprise of it all had been one of the best parts, so even if he did somehow figure out how to time travel, he’d keep his mouth shut on this one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in this getup.” Buck smirked down at Eddie before waggling his brows at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You stole the words right out of my mouth.” Eddie whispered, tilting his head the half or so inch up to reach Buck’s lips. The kiss had a promise of something more in it, and suddenly Buck realized exactly why Eddie had been so enraptured with the photo.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Any chance you still have that hat?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>inspired by https://www.instagram.com/p/CKeov-eMH1K/ this photo that Oliver posted in reference to the upcoming 'Buck Begins' episode</p>
<p>please don't be too harsh with me, i'm just a dumb bitch with no grasp on grammar and with Grammarly as my only beta</p>
<p>but if you liked this pls hit me up on tumblr @maurawrites (and watch as i slowly devolve from a writing blog into a 911 fandom blog)! i'd love some buddie prompts!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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